Soft Come The Dragons
by AlElizabeth
Summary: Here it is! The long awaited and highly anticipated sequel to Here There Be Monsters. The Winchesters and the team from the BAU meet again and the agents learn that not all monsters are human.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Midnight Special**

_What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams – Werner Herzog_

Spencer Reid didn't look up when Derek Morgan walked through the break-room door.

"You want some coffee with that sugar, Kid?" his friend asked and the younger man shrugged.

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed in concern, "Hey, you okay?"

Reid glanced at his fellow agent, pressing the button on the coffee machine and the beverage flowed into the paper cup.

"I'm fine," the younger man answered but Morgan didn't look convinced.

Reid picked up his coffee cup and sipped at the contents for a moment, "I'm better than I was."

"Okay," Morgan raised his hands in surrender. Reid moved out of the way to give him a clear path to the coffee machine and made his way back to the bullpen.

It had been months since the team had traveled to the small town of Brentwood, Washington but it was clear that Morgan- if not the others as well- still worried about Reid.

The young doctor grimaced as he recalled the nightmares that had plagued him after returning to Quantico.

At first it had been hard to deal with the bad dreams; Reid felt isolated, alone, even though he knew Morgan was always willing to talk, but now the memories were more easily brushed aside, especially with the knowledge that Theodore Cunningham was currently serving a life sentence in the Washington State Penitentiary.

No, it wasn't night terrors that had Reid up late; he couldn't stop thinking about the Winchesters.

He knew it was ridiculous; if the Winchesters were smart they'd go underground, but Reid couldn't stop hoping he'd see them again. He had not had the chance to thank Sam for protecting him from Cunningham and although he'd spoken to Dean, it just wasn't the same. Dean hadn't been there. Dean hadn't seen what Sam had done to protect a complete stranger (and up until then, an enemy) from harm.

Hotch had told them not to mention the Winchesters at all and the team had followed his orders, each of the members believing them to be good men but Reid wishedhe could let someone know about the brothers.

It was not only Sam Winchester's fiercely protective streak but the mystery surrounding both brothers. The team had filled Reid in on their experience with Dean and it was clear that they were running from someone.

Reid was disappointed when Morgan had told him Dean Winchester had refused the team's help when they'd hauled him in to be questioned but he wasn't surprised. Marked as murderers, it was no wonder the Winchesters would refuse the assistance. For all Dean knew, it could be some sort of trick to get him and his brother locked up forever.

The young doctor raised his coffee cup in greeting to Emily Prentiss and JJ as he sat down at his desk. He had a mountain of paperwork to fill out and he was not looking forward to it; this was going to be one long night.

"You're staying here?" JJ asked and Reid nodded, "I have to catch up on all this."

The blonde agent nodded, "I think Emily put some of her files on your pile again."

Reid sighed and rolled his eyes, glancing at the dark-haired agent from across his desk.

"What? I thought you liked reading," she teased and Reid smirked, shaking his head.

Both women grabbed their jackets and pocketbooks, getting ready to head home. Reid bade them a goodnight and bent over the first file folder.

Morgan made his way back to the bullpen and sat with Reid for a while, keeping him company.

"Sure you don't want to call it a night?" the doctor's friend asked and eyed the stack of paperwork on Reid's desk.

"I've got it," Reid answered, "Really. I have to get this finished."

"Okay," Morgan stretched his arms over his head, "See you tomorrow."

"Night," Reid called distractedly as the other agent walked towards the elevators.

_SPN_

Sam Winchester picked listlessly at his salad as his brother munched happily away on a cheeseburger.

He was exhausted and really had no appetite; all he wanted to do was go back to the motel room and sleep.

Sam grimaced, that was nearly impossible with Lucifer keeping him up most nights.

The youngest Winchester made a point of not looking anywhere but at his slightly wilted salad and concentrated on his brother's voice as the talked through a mouthful of hamburger meat and bun.

"So it's all quiet on the Leviathan front," Dean said in a low voice so civilians wouldn't overhear him, "Wanna see if you can find us a case? I'm getting kind of antsy."

Sam lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

"Hey, you okay there?" Dean asked, setting his burger down and staring at Sam with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," the younger Winchester muttered and speared a piece of lettuce on his fork, "Just a little tired."

Sam stopped himself from hunching his shoulders as Lucifer laughed from somewhere off to his right.

Dean nodded, "Well, finish up Bugs Bunny. I want to get back to the motel and see what we can find."

Sam set his fork down and sat back, having eaten nothing.

Dean wolfed down the rest of his burger and fries and peered curiously at Sam's untouched salad.

"Yeah, doesn't look all that good anyway," Dean joked and Sam gave him a tight, false smile.

While Dean flagged down their waitress for the bill, Sam excused himself and went to the restroom.

Locking the door to one of the cubicles, Sam took a few deep breaths and squeezed his eyes shut.

He had to get control of himself. He had to. He knew what was real and what wasn't real… and Lucifer definitely wasn't real. He was just a hallucination, a figment of his imagination.

"Keep telling yourself that, Sam," the Devil's voice piped up from beyond the stall door, "If it makes you feel batter."

Sam heard the door to the bathroom open and footsteps as someone walked inside. Raking a hand through his hair, Sam decided to wait until the other occupant had left before exiting the stall. He didn't really want anyone to be there if Lucifer was still hanging around.

Sam listened to the guy as he went about his business, washed his hands and walked out, the door swishing shut behind him. Opening the stall door, Sam stepped out and stared at the man who was clearly dead.

He was short and round, his head balding on the top. He was wearing khaki shorts and socks with sandals. His light green golf shirt was spattered with crimson spots. His face rested in one of the urinals, blood leaking down the sides of the white porcelain.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his thumb into the scar on his left palm.

Not real, not real, it's not real.

Sam opened his eyes and saw he was alone. There was no corpse. There was no Devil.

Without looking around, the youngest Winchester walked out of the bathroom hastily, knowing Dean would be wondering if he'd drowned or something by now.

_W_

Dean flopped down gratefully onto his bed, sighing.

Sam watched from the doorway as his brother made himself comfortable. The younger Winchester grabbed his laptop from his duffel bag and sat down at the motel's small table with it. Sam turned in his seat when he heard the television suddenly come alive.

"Dean, I could really use your help with this," he said and his brother glanced over at him, a bored expression on his face.

"I'm no good at research; you know that," Dean answered, "Besides, you get annoyed if I touch your computer. You've got a handle on this, right?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed and turned his attention to the laptop screen.

"Hey, what am I supposed to be looking f-" He began once he'd opened up the browser tab and looked over at Dean who had his eyes closed.

He had fallen asleep; Sam could hear the faintest snores underneath the drone of the television.

Sam sighed and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. It was going to be a very long night.

_W_

"He's so cute when he's asleep," Lucifer chuckled, standing over Dean's prone form.

Sam tore his gaze away from his laptop and snapped at the Devil, "Leave him alone!"

Lucifer glanced at Sam, a frown on his face and crossed his arms.

Sam's eyes widened when blood began to drip down the walls. Over the sound of the television he could hear screaming.

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his thumb down on the scar of his left palm.

It's not real, he thought desperately as his heart began to pound in fear, there's no blood and no one's screaming.

"You already know that's not going to work, Sam," Lucifer's voice cut through Sam's internal mantra.

The young man opened his eyes and jumped back; Lucifer's face only inches from his.

The Devil laughed and Sam pulled his chair closer to the table, hunching over his laptop as he stared at the screen.

_SPN _

Spencer Reid rubbed at his temples as he stared down at the open file on his desk. He hated paperwork. Hated it! Despite what his coworkers might have thought, he did not enjoy having to re-read all the facts about cases they had completed and make sure there were no mistakes.

Sure, Reid liked reading but scrutinizing the result of grisly murders over and over again was not his idea of a good time. He really just wanted to get the work finished as quickly as possible.

He peered into his coffee mug and sighed when he saw only the dark brown dredges left.

Poised to stand and head into the break-room, the doctor froze when he heard the muffled sounds of footsteps and a voice speaking from across the bullpen.

"…No Sir," a male voice said quietly, "We haven't seen or heard from them since…"

Reid sat back down as Agent Valente came into view, walking with purpose towards the elevators. The doctor didn't know anyone else was working late.

"I don't know!" Valente exclaimed and ran his free hand through his light brown hair, "We're trying to find them, Sir, but it appears they've gone underground…"

Who was Agent Valente talking to? Reid wondered. And who was he talking about?

The Agent stopped walking and appeared to be listening intently to the other person on the phone.

The man gulped and ran his hand through his hair again, "I understand, Sir. No, we won't lose them again… we'll find them…"

Valente closed his phone and put it into his jacket pocket. He loosened his tie and sighed, muttering something to himself too quiet for Reid to hear.

The doctor did not move until the other agent was in the elevator, on his way to the ground floor.

Deciding that it was just about another case, Reid tried to ignore what he'd heard.

But he couldn't. Agent Valente had seemed… nervous, even scared while talking on the phone and the doctor didn't even think the Director of the FBI could instill such emotion in people.

It's not your problem, Reid told himself. All you have to worry about is getting this paperwork finished.

The doctor yawned loudly and stretched. Standing up and wandering over to the break-room, Reid poured himself another cup of coffee and settled down for a few more hours of dotting his i's and crossing his t's before going home.

**Author's Note:**

**1. I do not own either Criminal Minds or Supernatural. I'm just borrowing the characters.**

**2. The fanfic title comes from a collection by Dean Koontz. The chapter title comes from a CCR song of the same name.**

**3. Please leave a review! I was amazed at the amount of attention **_**Here There Be Monsters **_**received; let's see if we can do better than 108 reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Grand Illusion **

Sam glanced up from his computer when he heard Dean groan and sit up, blinking against the sunlight coming through the crack in the curtains covering the smeary motel window.

"What time is it?" Dean grumbled, glancing at the clock radio on the nightstand even as Sam answered him.

"Six," the younger man said and Dean groaned again, flopping back against the pillows.

"How long have you been up?" he asked, one arm draped across his eyes, trying to block out the sun.

"All night," Lucifer answered but of course Dean couldn't hear him.

"A while," Sam muttered, lying. He grabbed the paper cup of coffee beside his computer and took a deep swallow of the lukewarm liquid, grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Did you have any luck finding us a case?" Dean asked and sat up again, setting his feet on the spotty motel carpet.

"I did," Sam answered and pulled up the tab on the computer's search engine he'd looked over.

"Great, enlighten me," Dean smirked but Sam didn't return the gesture. He had spent all night staring at autopsy and crime-scene photos of the victims while trying to ignore Lucifer whispering in his ear.

Turning the computer towards his brother, Sam tried to recall the information he had read without having to actually look at the pictures again.

"The first victim appeared, uh… two weeks ago," Sam said, "Her name was…"

"Crystal," Lucifer provided.

"Crystal…" Sam repeated, "Uh…"

"Philips," Dean muttered, "Yeah, thanks Sam, I can read."

Sam sighed and drank another mouthful of coffee.

"She was found outside a local bar," Sam explained, "Missing her liver and… skin."

Dean nodded and apparently scrolled down to the autopsy pictures, grimacing in disgust.

"Oh, that's not right," he grumbled, "What else?"

"The second victim was Richard Allen," Sam said, avoiding making eye-contact with Lucifer, "He was found outside of his office building two days after Crystal was discovered. He was also skinned and had his kidneys removed."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. He wished he could distance himself from this case as he usually would but with each picture revealing the flayed corpse of a victim, Lucifer was there, reminding him of his similar fate he'd experienced while he'd been trapped in the Cage with the fallen angel and Michael.

"Sam?" Dean's voice startled him, "You alright?"

He nodded, "Uh… Alison Bower was found last week. And Patti McDuffy was found on Monday."

Dean frowned, "Hm… do you have any idea about what this is?"

Sam shook his head, "Oh, there was something else… It's not in the police or medical reports or anything but a couple of months ago a farmer found most of his sheep mutilated."

"Sheep?" Dean scowled, "What the Hell?"

Sam shrugged; he was just as stumped as his brother on this one.

"Well," Dean said, standing and stretching, "I don't know about you but I can't work a case on an empty stomach."

Sam closed his laptop- gratefully- and stood as well.

"Why don't I get us something and you pack?" Sam offered. Dean glanced down at the empty coffee cup beside the computer- evidence that Sam had already been to the diner across the street- and shrugged.

"Sure, whatever you want."

Sam grabbed his jacket and left the motel room, closing the door quietly after himself. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sam walked with his head down, his feet guiding him back to the diner.

Although it was warm outside- and certain to become even more so as the day progressed- Sam shivered, pulling the collar of his jacket up. He received some odd looks from the few people he passed, locals on their way to work, wearing sandals and dresses or business suits but he ignored them.

Lucifer walked beside Sam, keeping stride with him, humming cheerfully.

Sam stared at the pavement in front of him, trying to ignore his unwanted company. Instead, he tried to focus on the case. He didn't know of any supernatural creature that killed its victims in the way he had seen in the coroner's reports. No monster he could think of skinned its victims. And the sheep, well, that was just strange.

Sam knew that Chupacabra's often killed livestock and fed on their blood, but certainly never removed the animals' skins.

Maybe this wasn't their sort of case after all; maybe some human psycho had murdered those people. Sam couldn't help but be reminded of the fictional serial killer, Buffalo Bill from the movie _The Silence of the Lambs_.

Reaching the diner, Sam slipped inside and stood in line while he waited to be served.

The girl at the counter gave him a curious look when she saw him for the second time that morning but only asked what he wanted.

Sam ordered Dean's breakfast and a coffee for himself.

"Another coffee, Sam?" Lucifer chimed in, leaning against the counter beside him, "That'll be, what, your third this morning?"

The youngest Winchester ignored the observation and took the paper cup when the girl handed it to him and moved to the side to wait for the rest of his order.

"You know, all that caffeine is not good for you," the Devil continued as Sam took a sip of the hot liquid.

Sam didn't care if it was bad for him, he needed it. If he didn't drink it, he'd fall asleep and if that happened he'd have nightmares or Lucifer would wake him, irritated at being ignored for longer than five minutes.

"Here's your order, sir," the girl held out the large paper bag and Sam grabbed it, muttering his thanks.

Sam dashed across the street, ignoring the blaring of a car horn as a driver swerved to avoid hitting him and opened the motel room door.

"Where's my coffee?" Dean asked, taking the bag from Sam and frowning after looking inside.

Damn, Sam had forgotten to get his brother coffee as well.

"Why not give Dean yours?" Lucifer suggested.

"What've you got? Not one of those frou-frou drinks?" Dean asked, as if he had heard the Devil's comment.

"It's black," Sam muttered and held it out to Dean.

"Thanks Sammy," he took the offered beverage, smiling, "I owe you one."

Sam shrugged, "You ready to go?"

"Car's all packed and everything," Dean grinned and Sam tried to smile back but the expression fell flat.

Dean, though, didn't seem to notice, too interested in his food. Sam followed him out to the car and waited for Dean to get himself settled in the driver's seat of their most recently stolen car, which was consisted of him arranging his bacon and eggs on his toast to make a sandwich he could hold and eat while he drove.

Once Dean had pulled out of the parking lot and turned the radio on to eardrum-shattering level- which Sam was actually grateful for; Lucifer's voice wasn't as loud as the Metallica or Iron Maiden or Motorhead blasting from the speakers- Sam leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, not really believing he'd fall asleep but simply resting his eyes.

_SPN_

Rossi grimaced at the gory crime scene photos on the wall as Penelope explained the case.

"This is twenty-two year old Crystal Philips," Garcia said, the victim's body juxtaposed with a copy of a picture of her on the beach in a flattering pink bikini.

"She was found two weeks ago in front of the local bar where she worked," the technical analyst continued, "by another employee."

"The coroner's report indicates that her throat was cut and she had her skin and liver removed."

A new picture appeared on screen, this one of a man in his late fifties.

"Richard Allen, fifty-seven was also found without his skin and his kidneys were also gone."

"Liver… Kidneys," Emily Prentiss spoke up, "Are we thinking the unsub is cannibalizing his victims?"

"It's a little early to tell-" Aaron Hotchner began but was interrupted by Spencer Reid.

"Jack the Ripper took Catherine Eddowes' left kidney and reportedly fried and ate it. He sent a letter to George Lusk, leader of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee describing it. Albert Fish also ate his victims; he-"

"Thank you, Spencer," Aaron held up his hand to stop the doctor before he got too carried away. Reid cleared his throat and Morgan chuckled slightly before turning serious again after Hotch glared at him.

"Continue," Aaron indicated to Garcia and the techie started again.

"The latest victims are Alison Bower and Patricia McDuffy," she said, showing them pictures of skinned bodies.

Rossi frowned, "If Phillips was found two weeks ago, Allen two days later, Bower was last week and McDuffy only on Monday, than we have a big problem. Our unsub is accelerating with no particular pattern."

"Right," Hotch said, "I want everyone on the jet in thirty minutes."

Rossi stood and stretched. This case was shaping up to be a bad one- not that there were any _good _cases- and he only hoped they could get their unsub before anyone else died. Sighing, the veteran Fed glanced at his teammates, their faces saddened though determined.

The battle is never over, Rossi thought to himself, there always monsters to slay.

_SPN_

Dean frowned at his brother sitting in the seat across from him. Sam was hunched over the Formica table, hands wrapped around what had to be his tenth coffee of the day. They had stopped for lunch ten minutes ago and while Dean had eagerly ordered a cheeseburger and a Coke, Sam had only wanted coffee. He hadn't even asked for one of his stupid salads!

Dean reached out and slid the mug out from his between his brother's fingers, moving it over to his side of the table.

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed irritably, "Give that back."

Dean didn't even blink as Sam reached out for the mug, "Why don't you try eating something first?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, hand still outstretched, before muttering, "I'm fine. I'm not hungry."

Dean wanted to call bullshit but was interrupted by the waitress who set his burger in front of him. She turned to Sam, notepad ready.

"Sure I can't get you anything?"

Dean stared at his brother from around the waitress' arm, his food momentarily forgotten.

Sam, avoiding Dean's glare, shook his head, "No thank you."

Once they were alone, Dean leaned over the table and hissed at his sibling, "Damn it, Sam! I don't care if you order the fucking Soup of the Day but you have got to eat _something._"

Dean didn't like this, not at all. He worried when Sam refused to eat. A guy Sam's size couldn't afford to skip meals.

Sighing at his brother's expression- it looked as though Sam couldn't gather up enough energy to even scowl at him- he toned it down a notch.

"Is it… you-know-what?" Dean asked quietly.

He knew what it was like; he had been there. The first few weeks after being rescued from Hell, certain foods, especially meat, curdled Dean's stomach. Even now, he sometimes hated the smell of frying bacon.

Ever since Cas had destroyed Death's wall- the only thing keeping Sam from his memories of the Cage- Dean had noticed a marked change in Sam's behaviour. Dean tried to help Sam, he really did, but it was difficult when his brother refused to talk about it and keep everything bottled up. Sure, Dean knew he hadn't been in a chatty mood about his time in Hell but he also didn't have the Devil as an imaginary friend.

Sam looked away, out the window beside the booth and his silence told Dean the truth.

"Sammy, man, you need to eat," he told his brother quietly, "You'll get sick if you don't."

"I know, Dean," Sam whispered, his voice soft and watery.

Dean shoved his plate closer to the middle of the table, hoping to entice Sam to eat a few of his French fries, maybe. The eldest Winchester started in on his cheeseburger, keeping an eye on his brother as he ate.

Sam raised one hand to his brow and massaged his forehead as if it pained him. He closed his eyes for a moment before they snapped open and he glanced at something unseen off to his right from the corner of his eye.

By the time Dean had finished his cheeseburger and half of his fries, he pushed the plate over so that it was directly in front of Sam.

"I'm full," he claimed, "You have the rest."

Sam stared down at the fries for a long moment and Dean found himself holding his breath; if Sam still didn't eat…

He almost smiled when Sam speared a fry with his fork and ate it, avoiding the ketchup Dean had squirted onto the plate.

Their waitress came by; eyeing Sam slowly eating the remaining fries, before turning to Dean.

"Anything else?" she asked, one hand on her hip.

"Can I get a slice of apple pie?" Dean asked, his mouth watering at the very thought of the sweet dessert.

"Coming right up," the waitress and looked over at Sam, "You want something else, Sugar?"

Sam glanced up quickly and shook his head silently. The waitress nodded and left.

Dean's brother pushed the plate into the centre of the table once all the fries were eaten and Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Feel better?"

Sam shrugged, "Yeah."

Dean rewarded Sam with his coffee, the beverage lukewarm now but Sam took it, almost guzzling it down.

Sam fidgeted the entire time Dean was eating his pie. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and peeked nervously to his right, as though he didn't think Dean would notice.

That's it, Dean thought, next time Sam has coffee I'm making sure its decaf.

"Sam," Dean called his brother's name to try and distract him from whatever it was that was bothering him so. The younger sibling turned his tired green eyes on Dean who frowned.

It's okay, Sammy; Dean said silently, trying to convey the message with his own eyes. He hoped Sam would be able to read it.

Dean sat back in his seat and pulled some bills from his wallet, setting them on the table beneath his empty glass.

Sam followed Dean out the door of the diner and sank into the passenger seat, closing his eyes even though they both knew he'd get no sleep.

Dean put the key in their stolen car's ignition and turned on the radio loudly- maybe the sound would drown out Lucifer for a little while- and smiled when Metallica's 'Hero of the Day' began to play.

_SPN_

Miller's Falls, Pennsylvania was an up and coming community. It had begun as a small group of farms in the early 20th century but had grown since then to include a small suburban circle. Although farming was the city's major form of employment, it also had a large industrial sector. Despite its smaller size, the city was no stranger to the woes that plagued major metropolises.

The team was met by the local police chief, Leon Gabraldo, and shown to the station.

"This is a nice place," the chief explained as he showed the team to a conference room they could use to set up, "Sure we're getting bigger but nothing like this has ever happened. We're mostly farmers and factory workers here. Almost half of the people living here are Amish!"

Hotchner nodded sympathetically, "We understand your concern; that is why we were called in, to put a stop to this."

Chief Gabraldo stopped in the conference room doorway, "Look, we just don't want to be given a bad name by whomever is killing those people."

JJ smiled, she could help with that part of the process, keep the media away.

"You always think that this sort of thing happens in the big cities, New York, Chicago, not in places like Miller's Falls," Gabraldo concluded and opened the door for the team.

"Actually, statistically speaking its just as likely for violent crimes to occur in-" Reid began but Hotch shot him a look that said 'not now' and the doctor stopped.

Once Chief Gabraldo had left the room, Hotch turned to his team, his expression serious.

"We do not have long before this unsub finds another victim," he told them, somewhat unnecessarily, "Which only makes our jobs a lot more difficult."

The agents nodded, quite familiar with this scenario.

"Dave," the Unit Chief began, "I want you to interview the witness who found the first victim."

Rossi nodded, glancing at the younger man for only a moment. Normally Aaron liked to partner them off but it seemed with the number of witnesses who needed to be interviewed, the team was going to be stretched thin this time

Morgan and Prentiss were assigned the task of interviewing the witnesses to the discovery of Richard Allen and Alison Bower's bodies. Reid and JJ would remain in the station and attempt to figure out a pattern to the murders. Hotch himself would look into Patricia McDuffy's death.

Sighing, Aaron climbed into the large black department issued SUV and drove to the address where the latest victim's body had been found.

_SPN_

Dean sprawled out on the motel bed as though it belonged in a five-star resort and sighed.

"Let's get some rest and start asking questions tomorrow," he muttered to his brother, "I'm exhausted."

Sam sat down on his bed, glancing at Dean. He wished he could just lie back, close his eyes and fall asleep.

He couldn't though; Lucifer wouldn't let him.

Instead, Sam dug his laptop out of his duffel bag and settled in for a long night of Solitaire.

_W_

"Sam," Lucifer said, peering over the young man's shoulder, "You're going to lose."

"What?" Sam asked, peering up at the Devil tiredly.

"The game," the fallen angel elaborated, "Three more moves and it's all over for you."

Sam sighed and closed the game, staring at the background instead.

Lucifer walked across the room, sat on the end of Dean's bed and turned on the television, blaring the volume.

Sam groaned and grabbed his head with both hands, gritting his teeth together. The Devil just looked over at Sam and grinned.

"No TV, Sam?" he asked, "We could do something else, if you want."

The young man looked up to find the fallen angel standing right in front of him and he couldn't help but cringe away.

The Devil chuckled and Sam let out a whimper before he could stop himself.

_SPN_

Dean thought someone was being murdered.

Before he'd even opened his eyes, all he could think was that someone was dying.

No, it had to be the television. Dean tried to remember if he'd left it on before he'd gone to bed. Maybe Sam was watching something.

_Sam._

The cries continued, thin and full of pain, unending.

The voice didn't seem as though it was coming from TV speakers though; it sounded far too close for that.

Dean blinked his eyes and saw that the television screen was blank. Silent.

That meant…

_ "_Sam!" Dean leaped out of bed and rushed to his brother's side.

"Sammy! Sammy?"

The younger Winchester was on the motel room floor, writhing in apparent agony, though there was not a mark on him.

"Shit," Dean swore as he reached out and set a hand on his sibling's shoulder, "Shit, shit, shit."

Sam didn't react to his touch, he just continued screaming. If Dean couldn't quiet him, someone was bound to call the police; if they hadn't already.

"Shh," Dean murmured urgently, "C'mon, Sammy, snap out of it."

Grabbing his brother tightly, Dean heaved Sam's twitching body up and into a hug, leaning his sibling against his chest.

"Calm down," Dean tried to soothe, arms locked around his struggling brother, "It's alright, you're safe."

Sam's cries began to quiet, turning to whimpers. He continued to thrash though, as though he were having a seizure.

"Easy Sammy, easy," Dean kept talking, reassuring his brother even though he wasn't certain his sibling could hear him.

The older brother brushed the younger's sweaty bangs from his brow and began rocking him gently, hoping the motion would soothe him.

In Dean's hold, Sam went rigid for a long moment before going completely limp, exhausted.

"Sammy? Hey, you okay?" Dean asked concernedly; he grabbed his brother's hand- the one with the scar on the palm- and squeezed lightly.

His brother's green eyes opened to slits, "D'n?"

"Hi," Dean responded and instead of trying to wiggle out of his hold, Sam leaned into him, head against his chest.

"M'tired," Sam muttered and closed his eyes.

"I know, Sammy," Dean whispered. He should probably go see the manager, explain that there wasn't an axe-murderer in their room but he didn't want to leave his brother.

Dean closed his eyes as well, wishing Sam would reach out to him like this more often. He wasn't stupid; Dean knew that Lucifer was still there, rattling around in Sam's mind like a loose marble but his sibling refused to let him in on it. Dean felt bad; he was sure Sam thought he had to be strong for him. Dean had held back his true feelings, keeping a mask of normalcy in place when he'd returned from Hell. Dean was sure Sam was doing the exact same thing. He didn't have to though, Sam's Hell had been worse than Dean's, and he had a right to break down every now and then. It hurt Dean that Sam pretended that nothing was wrong, that hurt the older brother the most. When they both knew otherwise.

A sharp rapping at the door brought Dean out of his thoughts. Sam jerked in his arms, eyes wide and fearful.

"You in there! Come out or I'll call the cops!"

"Sorry Sammy," Dean apologized and extracted himself from his brother. Sam made no move to get up. He curled up on the floor, face pressed against the dingy motel carpet.

Dean glanced worriedly at his sibling before going to the door and opening it up only as far as the chain-lock would allow.

"Yeah?" he asked irritably.

The manager, a short, paunchy man with a balding head, peered angrily up at Dean.

"The fuck is going on in there? I had people from almost a half-dozen rooms complain about someone screaming bloody murder."

Dean wiped a hand over his face, his fatigue quite real, "Sorry, it's my brother, he has... epilepsy… he's fine now."

The manager narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean, "If it happens again you're out. You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, closing the door, "Asshole."

Returning to his brother's side, Dean crouched down and once again brushed Sam's bangs away from his forehead.

"Sammy?" he said quietly and his sibling's eyes opened at once.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," Sam breathed and sat up shakily.

Dean reached out and gripped Sam under the arm, guiding him towards his unused bed. He sat Sam down on the mattress and then glanced at the small table in the room where his brother's open laptop sat, the screensaver in use.

Turning his attention to Sam, Dean fluffed the motel pillow and patted it, "Why don't you lie down for a little bit?"

"Hmmm," Sam muttered and fell back, his head missing the pillow but he didn't seem to care.

"Sam?" Dean asked, "Sammy?"

His brother didn't answer, his eyes closed.

Dean sighed and patted his brother's chest.

"Good night, Sam."

_SPN_

Rossi nodded in sympathy as Harris Redding spoke. The man worked as a bartender at the same bar the late Crystal Phillips had been employed at. The man was well over six feet tall and all muscle, his black curly hair cut short but the grim set of his lips and the shine in his brown eyes belied the fact that he was shaken from his discovery.

"I didn't know what it- she- was at first," he admitted, "It was dark and I just… I don't know what I thought."

"That's all right," Rossi told the distraught man, "Can you remember anything about the scene other than Miss Phillips' body?"

The witness furrowed his brow, deep in thought, and Rossi glanced at his cell phone, wishing Aaron or Reid would call and tell him some good news.

"I'm sorry, agent," he said apologetically, "I can't think of anything that might be useful."

Rossi nodded and stood, "That's alright. Here's my card in case anything comes to you."

Harris' lips thinned, "Wish I could have been more helpful. Crystal, she was going to college, gonna be a nurse."

Again, Rossi nodded.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Redding," he concluded as the man saw him to the door of his apartment.

"Catch the sumbitch who did this to her, will you?" Harris asked, his expression almost bloodthirsty.

Rossi promised that that unsub would not escape justice.

_W_

"I don't see anything, Spence," JJ sighed and rubbed her thumbs against the skin just above her eyebrows, "The victims were all different ages, different genders, didn't work at the same places…"

Reid looked up at the blonde-haired agent and narrowed his eyes.

"There has to be a connection," he insisted, peering down at the city map spread out before him, "There always is."

_SPN_

The next morning Sam acted as if nothing had happened. And that pissed Dean off.

Was his brother just going to pretend that he hadn't been freaking out? That everything was fine?

"I'm going to get some breakfast," Sam announced as he exited the bathroom, fully clothed, "Any special requests?"

"Yeah, Sam," Dean folded his arms, almost glaring at him, "How about you tell me what happened last night, hm?"

Sam glanced down quickly before looking up, "I, uh, it was a nightmare, Dean. I'm fine. Really."

Dean didn't back down, "That's bullshit."

"Dean-" Sam began but the older Winchester stepped forward, reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"You haven't been _sleeping, _Sam, and you expect me to believe you were having a nightmare?" Dean snarled and he felt bad when he saw Sam cringe.

"Sam, man, I know you're seeing things or whatever," Dean tried again, "But… what the fuck was that? It sounded like you were dying."

His brother looked down again and Dean heard him swallow audibly.

Glancing up, Sam's expression was hardened, closed, "You want bacon or sausage?"

Dean released Sam's shoulders as though he'd been shocked, stepping out of the way, "Great, ignore me. That's fine. Go on then, get us breakfast."

He didn't say anything else as Sam left the motel room.

Once his brother was gone, Dean wiped a hand across his mouth.

"Fuck!" he swore and kicked the dresser.

Sam had always been able to tell him anything, everything and now he was shutting Dean out. The older Winchester didn't know what to do. He couldn't _force _Sam to talk but he couldn't bear to watch him suffer in silence either.

Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, Dean sighed and grabbed his duffel bag, deciding he might as well shower while Sam was gone.

"What happened to stone number one, Sammy?"

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Styx song of the same name.**

**Thanks to BranchSuper, psylocke23, Maybe2Morrow, Shuu, L.A.H.H, Elishab68, emebalia, SamDeanLover28, murphy9202, evil-step-sister, SPN Mum, FrancineMarie, and Wolf77 for reviewing.**

**If you have a moment. Please leave a comment.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Bad Seed**

Emily Prentiss blinked sleepily; confused for a moment before realizing it was her ringing cell phone that had woken her. JJ sat up in the other bed, looking equally bewildered.

The dark-haired agent grabbed her phone from where it sat on the nightstand between the beds and greeted the caller.

"Agent Prentiss," she muttered and brushed her hair out of her face with one hand.

"Another victim's been found," Hotchner's voice informed her, the Unit Chief sounding as though he had been awake for hours, "It's a child."

"Shit!" Prentiss swore out loud and JJ gave her a startled look.

"Can you and JJ meet us at the station?" Hotch asked, ignoring her outburst.

"Yeah," Prentiss assured him, standing up and glancing around the dark room for some clothes, "We'll be right there."

Closing her phone, Emily turned on the lamp that sat on the nightstand and grabbed some clothes, moving as quickly as possible.

"Was that Hotch?" JJ asked, following her friend's lead and pulling a light blue blouse and navy dress pants from her suitcase.

"Who else?" Prentiss muttered as she fastened the buttons on her own chocolate brown blouse.

"Someone else died," JJ said, not asking a question. Prentiss nodded and bit her lip, unsure if she should tell JJ that the victim had been a child.

"Does Hotch know who it was?" the blonde agent asked instead and Prentiss let out a sigh of relief. She knew that they dealt with cases involving kids all the time but she also saw the look on JJ's face whenever they did, as though the woman was putting her son in the place of every tiny victim they came across.

"No," Prentiss answered distractedly, "He said he wanted us there in person."

_W_

"This is nine-year old Owen Mulroney," Hotch gestured to the picture of a little boy with light brown hair smiling at the cameraman taking his school photo.

"He was found on the baseball field of J. Edgar Hoover Public School," the Unit Chief continued, his voice hard.

"Who discovered him?" Rossi asked soberly.

"A group of eighth graders who also went to the school," Hotch answered, "Apparently they were there to smoke cigarettes."

"Why the change in victims?" Morgan asked, his brown eyes dark. It was bad enough when adults were murdered but with children… that crossed a line.

"Maybe the others were practice?" Reid offered, not sounding very sure of himself.

"But adults are a lot stronger than a fourth-grader," Morgan argued, "It wouldn't make sense for the unsub to change his victimology now."

The team grew quiet, everyone uncertain of what to say. There seemed to be no connection to the victims and the coroner had yet to find any physical evidence of the murderer. There had been no skin, no hair, no saliva or semen to examine on any of the victims.

Hotch sighed, "I want us all to interview the witnesses again, see if there is something we've missed."

The team nodded solemnly. This was turning out to be a very difficult case indeed.

_SPN_

Sam walked slowly down the sidewalk, dragging his feet while Lucifer strolled along beside him, whistling 'Tiptoe Through the Tulips' cheerfully.

"Why the long face?" the Devil asked and chuckled. Sam didn't speak. He shivered despite the fact that he was wearing a sweatshirt and shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets.

"Don't tell me your not feeling nostalgic?" Lucifer asked mockingly.

Nostalgic wasn't exactly the word Sam would have used for what had happened the night before. Terrorized, was a more apt description, insane, was even better.

Sighing audibly, Sam reached up and brushed his bangs off his forehead.

He hated it when Dean was angry with him. He knew Dean as only trying to help but… well, Sam wasn't ready to talk. Not about the Cage.

"Why won't you tell Dean about all the fun we had, Sammy?" Lucifer asked, smirking.

The young man didn't reply.

"I'm sure he'd find it… enlightening," the Devil chuckled and reached a hand out towards Sam's face.

The hunter backed away, hitting another pedestrian.

"Hey! Watch where the hell you're walking!" the man snapped and glared at Sam as he continued on down the sidewalk.

Sam stopped where he was, breathing deeply to get himself under control. He clenched his hands into fists, the fingernails of his left hand digging into the scar on his palm.

Just go and get breakfast, Sam told himself, before Dean starts panicking.

Alone for the moment- Lucifer had vanished- Sam continued on his way to the diner, trying to remember if Dean had said if he wanted bacon or sausage.

_W_

Sam's shoulders slumped when he opened the door to the diner and saw Lucifer sitting at the counter, drinking a cup of coffee and reading as newspaper as though he belonged there.

Ignoring the Devil, Sam stepped up to the cashier and placed his order.

The diner was filled with happy, chatting people enjoying themselves and Sam tried to pretend, if only for a moment, that he was one of them.

The daydream ended swiftly though, as Sam caught a whiff of sulfur and roasting flesh, the scents making his throat tighten and his eyes water.

Sam opened his mouth to try and breathe through the miasma but it only made matters worse. His stomach suddenly lurched and Sam was certain he was going to be sick.

The girl who had taken his order returned, holding a large paper bag and she stared at him, alarmed for a moment before setting her burden down on the counter.

"Are you alright?"

Sam closed his mouth, took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he insisted, sure that he looked as though he was going to pass out.

"Here's your food," the girl shoved the bag at him and stepped away, incase he did throw up.

Sam grabbed the bag and turned around, pausing when he caught sight of the headline on the newspaper Lucifer was still reading.

Barreling towards the door, Sam didn't even stop as he grabbed a new paper from the stack by the exit, nearly flying down the sidewalk in his haste.

_SPN_

Dean looked up, startled, when Sam stumbled inside, panting and gasping for air.

"Sam!" Dean instantly stood up, going to his brother, his earlier anger completely forgotten in his concern.

Sam waved him away, "I'm fine… I just… here…"

Dean grabbed the newspaper his brother shoved at him and opened it, frowning.

"F-front page…" Sam stammered, bending over to place his hands on his knees.

"Sammy," Dean dropped the paper onto the table instead, "Are you alright?"

Sam shouldn't be so out of breath like this, even if he had run all the way from the diner.

"Sit down," Dean took hold of Sam's arm and guided him to the bed closest to the door, forcing him to take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

"What did you do? Run a marathon?" Dean asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam shook his head and brushed his damp bangs away from his eyes, "Only from the restaurant."

Dean didn't laugh or even smile. Instead he took note of the dark circles around Sam's eyes and his unusually pale complexion.

"Why don't you lie down?" Dean offered and Sam shook his head, "I'm alright."

"What was it you wanted me to see in the paper anyway?" Dean asked instead of trying to force his brother to rest.

"There's been another murder," Sam answered, recovering quickly, "The same thing that… killed those other people."

Dean walked over and grabbed the newspaper, reading the headline article quickly.

"How do you know it's the same guy?" he asked, "It doesn't say anything about the kid getting skinned or missing a kidney or whatever."

Sam glanced down at his lap, "I… just know… it's the same guy."

Dean frowned. There was something Sam wasn't telling him.

"He's from the same city as those other people," Sam told him, "So it fits."

"Okay," Dean rubbed a hand over his chin, "Let's eat and get on the road. We should be able to make it to Miller's Falls in a couple of hours."

Dean snagged the paper bag and began laying out the food.

"You go ahead," Sam said from the bed, having made no attempt to move, "I'm not really hungry."

Dean shook his head, "I may not be able to make you sleep but I sure as hell can make you eat something. Get over here."

Sam didn't move for a moment. Dean gave his brother his best impersonation of the 'John' stare; the look that their father would give them when he wanted his sons to obey instantly. Sighing, Sam stood and made his way over to the table.

Realizing that Sam had only ordered one meal- of course he would, he wasn't planning on eating- Dean put his toast onto one of the napkins that came in the bag and shoved it towards his brother.

"We aren't leaving until you eat that," Dean said with finality and he began with his own breakfast.

_SPN_

Morgan watched sadly as the Mulroneys left the interview room, teary-eyed and staggering under the weight of their grief.

The agent hadn't been able to get any useful information from Owen's parents. He was a good kid; loved baseball and Pokemon cards. He got average grades in school and was a member of the local Cub Scout chapter.

Sometimes, after classes and on the weekends, Owen would go to J. Edgar's baseball diamond to practice. That was what he had been doing when he'd been killed.

Morgan sighed and hit the speed dial number for Garcia.

"Please tell me you have something, Baby Girl," he said, praying for some good news.

"I'm sorry," Penelope answered, sounding not at all like her lively, bubbly self, "Owen Mulroney has no connection to the other victims and I mean none. Chrystal Philips didn't even graduate from J. Edgar Hoover."

"Okay, thanks for looking," Morgan replied.

"Anytime, my love," Garcia answered but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

Closing his phone, Morgan closed his eyes. They all couldn't be victims of opportunity. There was always a connection, no matter how tenuous.

Keep digging, Morgan though, keep searching. You'll find something. Don't give up. You can't give up. Not when people are dying.

Standing, the agent stretched his sore back and walked from the interview room, his gaze seeking out his friend, Dr. Reid.

_SPN_

"I don't understand why the FBI is interested in my sheep," Ezra Gaines commented, blocking the doorway of his farmhouse from the Winchesters, "The local sheriff didn't even look into it. Said it was probably a coyote."

Dean cleared his throat, "Mr. Gaines, between you and me, we both know that a coyote couldn't skin your entire flock of sheep without you hearing something. Am I right?"

The farmer looked suspiciously at the Winchesters for a moment before nodded, "No, I've never seen a coyote do anything like that."

Dean smiled politely, "If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to know exactly what happened that night."

Mr. Gaines stepped aside and Dean and Sam walked into the house. It was simple though cozy, oddly homey for its lack of modern comforts such as a television.

The Winchesters were led to the kitchen and offered a seat at the table.

Ezra Gaines sat down across from the two brothers and sighed sadly.

"Those sheep, they weren't just my livelihood, you understand. They were family… my children. Martha, she can't conceive. So we raised those sheep from lambs, sold their wool."

Dean nodded, tilting his head down as he made notes.

"What happened the night they were killed?" Dean asked as he wrote.

"It was warm out, so I left them outside. They like to sleep outdoors better anyways," Ezra cleared his throat and Dean turned to see a woman a little older than middle age standing in the doorway. She wore a modest blue dress that covered her from wrist to neck, with a hemline that touched the floor. Her hair, done up in a tight bun, was covered with a white kerchief.

"Would you gentlemen like some tea?" she asked quietly and Dean nodded, "Yes ma'am."

Returning his attention to Martha's husband, Dean gestured for Ezra to continue.

"I didn't hear anything. Nothing at all. I found them the next morning when I came out to milk the cows," Ezra explained.

"The cows were in the barn?" Dean asked and the farmer nodded.

"And they were alright?" he asked and again, Ezra nodded.

"Only the sheep," the farmer said somewhat faintly.

"Can you describe what you saw?" Dean asked and thanked Martha quietly as she set a cup of tea in front of him.

"The blood," the farmer answered, "That's what I saw first. The grass was red with it, as though someone had painted it."

"Then… the sheep… they were lying there… without their skins. There were flies too," Ezra continued, clearly upset.

Dean lifted his head and glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Ah, Agent Reznor, do you have any questions for Mr. Gaines?" Dean asked his brother.

It took a moment for Sam to respond, "What? No, no, I don't think so."

Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and turned his attention back to Ezra, "Did you try and find what had killed the sheep?"

"Of course!" the farmer exclaimed, "Me and Lucas Hans and Adam Kronin searched for hours but didn't find anything. Not even a footprint."

"Have any of the other farmers been attacked like this?" Dean asked and Ezra shook his head, "No, just me."

Slipping his notebook into his jacket pocket, Dean drained his teacup out of politeness and stood, "Do you mind if Agent Reznor and I take a look around the field?"

Ezra stood as well, "If you really want to. You won't find anything though."

The farmer saw them to the door and watched as the brothers picked their way to the empty field, climbing over the wooden fence with ease.

_W_

"What the hell, Sam?!" Dean grumbled angrily at his brother as they searched the grass, "You could have said something back there."

"Sorry," Sam muttered, his voice quiet.

"I might as well have been there alone!" Dean continued irritably.

Sam didn't reply, he simply kept his head down, his gaze on the ground beneath his feet.

_W_

Ezra Gaines was right. The Winchesters found nothing.

"I guess we have to go interview the witnesses now," Dean said resignedly as he slid into the driver's seat of their stolen car.

"That is, if you'll actually talk next time," he continued and saw Sam flinch slightly.

Dean felt bad but they had a job to do and if Sam was going to pretend that he wasn't on a downward spiral towards the Looney Bin than Dean could pretend too.

Sighing, the eldest Winchester wished Bobby was still with them- he'd know what was going on- but since he wasn't, prepared himself to talk to the people who had found the remains of the victims of… whatever this son of a bitch was.

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Metallica song of the same name.**

**Thanks to SPN Mum, reannablue, Elishab68, emebalia, Jeanny, L.A.H.H, psylocke23, SamDeanLover28, BranchSuper, Vaughn Tyler, scootersmom and Guest for reviewing.**

**Please leave a review! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Force Ten**

"Mr. Redding? I'm Agent Rhoads and this is Agent Reznor, we'd like to talk to you about Chrystal Philips if you have a moment," Dean announced when their first witness opened the door to his apartment.

"FBI?" Harris Redding asked, his dark brow creased with confusion.

"Yes sir," Dean confirmed and showed his fake badge, Sam following suit a moment later.

"I already spoke to the FBI and told them I didn't remember anything important," Redding told the Winchesters and Dean frowned.

"Who'd you speak with?" he asked, curious, and cautious.

"An Agent… one second, I got his card here somewhere," the door closed on the Winchesters as Redding went in search of the card he'd been given.

"Dean," Sam said quietly, "Do you think its-"

The rest of Sam's sentence was cut off when Redding opened the door and showed them the card, "Rossi, that was his name. David Rossi. You know him?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly in shock, "Yeah, I do."

_SPN_

Sam held his head in his hands, trying to think as Dean paced the motel room floor behind him.

"Shit," his brother swore, "This isn't good."

Sam tried to block out his brother's voice and concentrate.

"They probably think its some psycho," Dean continued, talking to himself.

"Sam," the young man flinched at the sound of Lucifer's voice but Dean didn't react, he hadn't noticed.

"You have all the facts," Lucifer continued, "All you have to do is connect the dots."

Sam clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The Devil whispering in his ear was not helping.

"I could help you," Lucifer wheedled, "You just have to ask. Just like in Coeur d'Alene."

Sam ground his teeth together, "I don't want your help."

"Sam? Sammy, are you okay?" Dean exclaimed suddenly and the young man felt his brother's hands on his shoulders.

Sam flinched and Dean released him, only to grab his hands and pull them away from his head.

"Sam," Dean murmured, "Hey, Sam, what is it?"

The younger sibling opened his eyes slowly, peering into his brother's concerned hazel ones.

"Talk to me," Dean said, almost begging.

"I- I'm fine," Sam muttered, trying to pull his hands from Dean's grip.

"No," Dean stated, "You're not."

"Dean," Sam pleaded, "Just leave it."

His brother shook his head, "I can't Sam."

Sam's eyes pricked with tears and he heard Lucifer laugh.

"Please, Sam," Dean begged, "Let me help you."

Sam's lower lip trembled and he was sure he was going to breakdown any moment now.

"Stone number one, remember?" Dean pressed his thumb lightly against the scar on Sam's palm, "You can tell me anything. You know that. Who am I to judge?"

"That's very accommodating of Dean, don't you think?" Lucifer spoke up, a smirk in his voice, "Where was he when you were drinking demon blood, Sammy? He certainly passed judgment then. And you were just trying to do the right thing."

Sam cringed and Dean squeezed his hands, "It's okay, Sammy. He can't hurt you. He isn't real."

Sam blinked up at Dean, eyes brimming because his brother was wrong. He had never been so wrong.

Lucifer was as real as the chair he was sitting in and he could hurt Sam.

"D'n," Sam choked and started crying, wanting so badly to confide in his brother but terrified at the same time.

Dean gathered Sam in a hug, holding onto him tightly.

"I've got ya, Sammy," he murmured, "It's alright. I've got ya."

Sam grabbed onto Dean's shirt, clenching the warm fabric tightly as though his brother might disappear at any moment.

Dean didn't say anything for a moment, only squeezing Sam harder, wanting nothing more than to ease his sibling's pain but clueless as how to do so.

Finally he released Sam and brushed the younger man's bangs away from his brow. Sam looked back at Dean with haunted eyes but said nothing. Instead he pushed his chair back and stood.

"Sam?" Dean said and leaped up in shock when his brother's eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean cried and knelt beside his brother, fingers pressed to his sibling's neck to feel for a pulse.

The younger man's heartbeat thudded steadily beneath his brother's hand and Dean sighed in relief.

Bending down, Dean grabbed Sam underneath armpits and heaved him up, and dragged him across the motel room, depositing him in the bed farthest from the door.

Peering sadly down at his brother, Dean wiped a weary hand over his face. Sam needed to eat. And sleep.

Dean checked his watch and decided that it was close enough to lunchtime. He'd go and get something for them, wake Sam if he was still asleep- though he was loath to- and make him eat. After that, although Dean hated it, he'd help Sam research because they needed to find out what was killing the citizens of Miller's Falls and they needed to do so as quickly as possible.

Although he didn't want to leave Sam alone, Dean had no choice. He checked and double-checked that the room was properly warded, that the door was securely locked, before climbing into the seat of their stolen car and driving down to a diner they'd passed on their way into town.

_SPN_

"Anything?"

Reid looked up to see Prentiss leaning in the doorway of the conference room, looking tired and solemn.

Spencer shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't understand. There seems to be no connection at all between the victims," he lamented.

"Did you ask Garcia-" the dark-haired agent asked but was cut off as Reid nodded.

"She looked into their histories, dug through their phone and electronic communications…. It seems like these people never crossed paths at all until they met the unsub."

Reid tore his gaze away from the map spread out on the table- red pins marking the locations of the victims' bodies while green pins represented their addresses- and stared at the photographs pinned to the bulletin board behind him.

"All different ages, genders, races…" the doctor muttered to himself.

None of this made sense.

"Why don't you go back to the hotel and get some rest?" Emily suggested, "You've been at this for hours."

Reid turned to look at the female agent, "But-"

Emily though, stepped into the room and shook her head, "Hotch's orders. I'm taking over for you."

Reid wanted to object. He was certain he would find something if only he could survey the map a little longer, check the list of people the victims had called and emailed and texted once more…

Morgan stuck his head in through the doorway, "C'mon Kid. Shift change."

Sighing, Reid gave up.

"Alright," he muttered and walked towards the door, grabbing his messenger bag as he did so.

Morgan fell into step beside Reid and the doctor caught his friend peering at him from the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" Morgan asked concernedly.

Reid shrugged, "Stressed. But what case isn't stressful?"

Morgan nodded, "I know. Nothing seems to make sense with this one."

Reid hitched the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder, "It just feels like it's a big puzzle and we're missing the most important piece, you know? The one that brings the picture together."

"We'll figure out who this asshole is," Morgan assured him, "We always do."

_SPN_

Dean stepped inside the motel room and saw that his brother was still sleeping- miraculously- and sighed.

He was loath to wake his brother; Sam hardly got any sleep these days, but Dean needed to get some food into his sibling.

Setting the paper bag and drink tray on the table, Dean allowed his brother a few more minutes of rest as he organized the meal.

As Dean worked he thought about the BAU team he'd met only a few months ago. He couldn't believe that they were once again in the same city. Although his common sense told him to stay clear of law enforcement types, his instincts told him that the team needed help. They didn't know but they were on the trail of a monster, a real one, and they certainly would get hurt if and when they caught up with it. Not only that, the agents had believed Dean when he'd told them the truth. He knew it must have been very difficult for them and he admired their willingness to hear his side of the story.

Once he and Sam figured out what this monster was and how to kill it, Dean would go to the team and convince them to call off their investigation.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy but he hoped he could convince the agents without actually having to tell them the truth. The BAU fought enough human monsters they didn't need to be worried about the supernatural ones as well.

Dean finished setting the table and turned to look at his slumbering brother.

Without waiting any longer, Dean crossed to the bed and gently shook Sam's shoulder. The younger man flinched and stared up at him with wary eyes for a long moment.

"Lunchtime Sammy."

"M'not hungry," Sam replied sleepily but Dean shook his head, "I wasn't asking if you wanted lunch. I was telling you."

Sam made no move to sit up, "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are!" Dean snapped, "You fainted like a girl after crying on my shoulder for ten minutes!"

Sam frowned, "I wasn't crying."

Dean mirrored the expression, "You're going to eat lunch."

Sam looked about to argue but then he sighed and sat up, sweeping his bangs away from his eyes.

"You've hardly been eating, man," Dean continued, his tone less severe.

Sam didn't disagree.

"Look," Dean said, "If you don't eat, you'll get sick and hospitals aren't exactly the safest places for us right now."

"Okay, okay," Sam muttered, "I get it."

Sam stood and followed Dean to the small table sitting down across from his older brother and peering down at the lunch his sibling had bought him.

"What is it?" Sam asked, staring down at the burger sitting on its paper wrapping.

"A burger," Dean replied, "Well, a soy burger; I know you like healthy crap like that."

Sam wrinkled his nose and lifted the top of the bun to peer uncertainly at the condiments.

"Don't ask me what's on it," Dean mumbled through his own cheeseburger, "The girl said it had some argo… agro… lettuce stuff and red onions and some green salad dressing on it."

"Arugula," Sam said absentmindedly and Dean nodded, "Yeah, that was it."

"Anyway, it has all the stuff you like so I hope you enjoy it," Dean told him and took a sip of his Coca Cola.

Sam set the top bun back onto the burger and picked up the whole sandwich.

Dean watched as Sam took a bite of the burger and chewed slowly, experimentally, before seeming to like- or at least tolerate it- and continued eating.

Dean couldn't help but smile somewhat smugly as he continued to enjoy his own lunch.

_W_

"We have to figure out what this son of a bitch is," Dean said as he cleaned up the leftovers from lunch. Not that there was much, only the paper wrappings from their burgers and empty drink cups.

Sam, without having to be told, had eaten all of his food and although he didn't look much better, seemed slightly more focused.

The younger man sighed, "I don't know Dean. I can't find anything."

"We'll figure it out. Look, we can go to the library or whatever. I'll even help you."

Sam gave Dean an incredulous look, "You'll actually do research?"

Dean shrugged the question off, "Yeah. Why not? Two heads are better than one, right?"

And with you getting less and less sleep, you'll need a sharp mind and a pair of fresh eyes.

"I guess," Sam admitted uncertainly, "You sure you don't want to talk to the witnesses or something? Maybe visit the morgue?"

Dean held back a grimace at the thought of examining the victims' remains.

Dean shook his head, "With two of us researching we hopefully won't have to talk to the witnesses or the coroner. We know how this thing kills; it's pretty damn specific. We should be able to find out what it is in no time."

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Rush song of the same name. **

**Thanks to BranchSuper, Vaughn Tyler, psylocke23, SPN Mum, L.A.H.H, Elishab68, emebalia, Shuu, reannablue, and SamDeanLover28 for reviewing.**

**Please take a moment and leave a comment and I will see you next Saturday. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Mean As Hell**

The words on the page began to swim before Sam's eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.

Glancing at the clock on the wall across from him, Sam saw that he and Dean had been in the library for nearly five hours.

And they had absolutely nothing.

Dean looked up from the book he was looking at and Sam shook his head, closing the tome he'd been skimming through.

"Maybe we should take a break," Sam suggested. His vision was blurring and his back ached.

Besides that, Lucifer was sitting in the seat beside Sam, tearing pages out of the discarded books and folding them into paper airplanes, launching them at the younger Winchester.

"Okay," Dean said but made no move to get up, "Stretch your legs, get a coffee. I'll be here."

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. Dean actually _wanted _to continue researching. He wasn't jumping up at the chance to look at a book that had more pictures than words in it.

Sam sighed and grabbed another book- this one on European folklore- and opened it to the table of contents.

"You're getting warmer Sammy," Lucifer commented and the young man grimaced as an airplane hit the side of his head.

_SPN_

Morgan woke groggily, confused as to what had woken him.

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure it out when he heard a soft cry from the bed beside his. Lifting his head, the agent saw the occupant of the bed twisted in the sheets, limbs moving slowly though purposefully as though even in sleep he was trying to flee some unknown terror.

"Reid!" Morgan flung his own blankets away and crossed to his friend's bed, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"No!" the doctor cried out and his eyes flew open, terrified even in the darkness.

"Reid!" Morgan said again, "It's okay. It's just a nightmare."

Breathing heavily, the doctor sat up, slumped forward, trembling.

Morgan squeezed Reid's shoulder comfortingly.

"You alright?"

Without looking at him, Spencer nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?" Morgan asked. Although it was late and they both needed sleep, he would stay up with his friend as long as he needed to.

Reid breathed a sigh and raked his fingers through his hair, "I… no… I don't think so."

Morgan frowned.

"You sure? Maybe I can help?"

Reid shook his head.

"I just want to go back to sleep, okay?"

Morgan lowered his hand from the other man's shoulder, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

Reid lay back down, turning so that his back faced Morgan.

The dark-skinned agent remained where he was for a moment longer before sighing and returning to his own bed.

He lay wide-awake, listening to his friend's even breathing, trying to pick up on any sign of the beginnings of a nightmare.

It was going to be a long night.

_SPN_

Sam stared down at the text in front of him. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and the words were still there. They didn't swim or vanish off the page.

"Dean," Sam called, louder than he should have. Another library patron shushed him.

His brother, who had been approaching with yet another armload of books, picked up speed. Dean dumped the tomes on the table and pulled up a chair to sit beside Sam.

Lucifer, sitting on the young man's other side, leaned back and crossed his arm, looking smug.

Sam slid the book towards his brother and Dean read, lips moving as he did so.

"That's disgusting," Dean commented, grimacing.

"No wonder we couldn't find anything," Sam said quietly, "She's only supposed to terrorize that one area in England."

Dean nodded, "Can we kill her?"

Sam frowned, "I don't know, it doesn't say."

"Shit," Dean swore and received a withering look from the same library patron who had shushed Sam.

The younger Winchester peered down at the book again, rereading the information:

Black Annis, described as a hag with a blue face and iron claws, was a bogeyman- or woman- figure for the English children in Leicestershire. She lived in the Dane Hills; in a cave she had dug out of the cliff face, leaving her home at night in search of her prey.

The hag had a taste for lambs and humans, especially children. She would cut their throats and then remove the skins, eating the revealed internal organs. Black Annis kept her victims' skin, tanning them and hanging them on a belt around her waist.

"How are we going to find her?" Dean asked, "I don't think there's any cliffs near here."

Sam shrugged, "At least we know what it is now."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "But we still don't know where she likes to hang out _or_, more importantly, how to kill her."

Sam sighed, exhausted from the hours of reading.

"Let's go back to the motel," he suggested, "I can look on the Internet and see if there's more information on her there."

"Okay," Dean agreed, "You want to bring the book?"

Sam shook his head, "I'll remember."

Dean smiled and patted Sam on the back, "'Course you will, Geek-boy."

_W_

"I _am _right here, Sam," Lucifer drawled, "Your very own Encyclopedia Supernatural."

Sam didn't say anything. His gaze remained fixed on the website he was browsing.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid Dean will hear? He's too busy singing his heart out in the shower to hear anything," the Devil continued, "A bomb could go off outside the door and he wouldn't know."

Sam hunched his shoulders but remained silent. The last time he had acknowledged Lucifer, the Devil had made it very clear that he had no intentions of leaving Sam alone.

Lucifer stood up from where he'd been lounging on the young man's bed and walked over to Sam, stopping only when he was right behind the hunter's chair.

Sam shivered at the cold coming off the Devil in waves and clenched his jaw.

Lucifer leaned forwards as though he too were reading the words on the screen, one hand coming up to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Sam's attention drifted away from his laptop as a memory came to mind, unwanted…

_... the smell of burning flesh and sulfur fills the air, coating Sam's tongue and making his eyes water..._

…_he can't move. He's trapped. Tied to the rack…_

… _please don't, he begs uselessly, the words rendered meaningless long ago…_

…_michael and Lucifer loom over him, the fallen angel holding a long curved blade…_

…_blood splatters and Sam cries out in agony… _

…_he hears someone calling his name. Adam. Sam tries to reply, tell his brother that its okay but he's choking on his own blood…_

_SPN_

Dean stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Refreshed and energized, he was ready to start research again. But first, lunch.

"Hey Sam-" Dean began but stopped dead when he caught sight of his sibling, "SAM!"

Forgetting all about food, Dean rushed across the small motel room to where Sam sat at the table, shaking, tears streaming down his face from beneath his closed eyelids.

"Sammy," Dean murmured and gripped his brother's shoulder, startled when the younger man pulled back with a strangled cry.

Frowning, Dean wrapped both arms around his brother's trembling frame, "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright. Calm down."

Dean took hold of Sam's left hand and pried his fingers open, pressing down on the scar on his palm.

Sam opened his eyes halfway and he rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, tears continuing to drip down his cheeks.

As he had done when Sam had been little, Dean began to rock them both gently, rubbing his sibling's back as he did so.

"Shhh," Dean whispered, "I've got ya. You're okay. I'm not gonna let anything hurt you, Sammy."

The older brother bit his lip, wishing that his words were true. Sure, he could protect Sam from demons and Leviathans and all manner of supernatural beasties but he could not protect his brother from his own mind, from his memories.

_SPN_

Reid sipped at the crappy coffee he had poured himself from the maker in the main area of the police station. He avoided Morgan's gaze and turned his attention instead to Hotchner.

"I've talked to Strauss and she said the director wants to take us off the case if we don't get this solved soon," the Unit Chief said seriously, to exclamations of protest from the rest of his team.

"We've never been removed from a case!" Emily argued, "Why would Strauss do that?"

Hotch turned to the dark-haired agent, "It isn't her decision. It's up to the Director, ultimately."

"Who'd replace us?" Morgan asked, eyebrows knitted together in irritation.

Hotchner shook his head, "I don't know."

"We can't let that happen, Aaron," Rossi announced, "What would that say about us?"

"I am trying to stall for time," Hotchner told the team, "But it is running out."

"What can we do?" JJ asked, her brown eyes showing concern.

"Reid, I want you to stay here and look over the map again. Talk to Garcia and see if she can dig a little deeper into the victims' lives, there has to be something there," Hotchner instructed and the doctor nodded, "The rest of us will interview the witnesses again."

_SPN_

"C'mon Sammy," Dean cajoled, "C'mon, you need to lie down."

Sam didn't move. He shook his head, hands gripping the back of Dean's shirt tightly.

"C'mon Sam," Dean continued, "You'll feel better after you've had some rest."

"I c-can't," Sam whispered, "I c-can't, D-Dean."

"Why?" Dean asked mostly to keep his brother talking.

"H-He won't l-let me," Sam told him, "He w-won't let m-me sleep."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. Yeah, he'd had nightmares when he'd returned from Hell, ones bad enough to make him think he was actually back there. But this was different. Sure, Sam had nightmares too, but he also had Lucifer hanging around, preventing him from even getting _any_ sleep most nights. Dean wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together and when Sam said he'd woken early and had dark circles around eyes that were becoming more and more sunken, Dean knew that Sam wasn't sleeping.

Guess its time for Plan B, Dean thought and extracted himself from his brother.

Sam slumped in his seat, hair covering his eyes and wiped at his damp cheeks.

Going to his duffel bag, Dean rummaged through it before finding what he needed and taking it back to his brother.

He twisted the top off the bottle of sleeping pills, broke the seal with the car keys and shook two small blue capsules onto his palm.

Sam stared down at them for a long minute.

"How long have you had those?"

"I picked them up when I went for lunch yesterday," Dean answered, "If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. I won't make you, but please, take these. Maybe they'll help you sleep."

"I don't know," Sam replied skeptically but Dean was sure he saw a hopeful look cross his brother's face, just for a moment.

Sam reached out for the pills, cringing at something Dean couldn't see and grabbed them from his palm, swallowing them dry.

Please God, Dean prayed silently, let these work.

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Johnny Cash song of the same name.**

**Thanks to Vaughn Tyler, BranchSuper, psylocke23, reannablue, SPN Mum, Elishab68, Cindar, emebalia, L.A.H.H, SamDeanLover28 and Guest for reviewing.**

**Please leave a comment if you have a moment. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Point Of No Return**

Dean held his breath for a moment before letting it go slowly. Sam was asleep. Really asleep.

He lay on his back on the bed, his chest rising and falling evenly.

Thank God, Dean thought and turned to Sam's computer, the screen saver conserving energy.

"Let's see how to kill this bitch," the hunter muttered quietly to himself and sat down, touching the mouse pad to deactivate the screen saver and pulled up the Web browser.

_W_

Dean closed the laptop with a sigh of frustration.

How could there be no way to kill this Black Annis hag?

He stood up, stretching and checked his watch. It was nearing dinnertime and he was hungry, having missed lunch. Sam was still fast asleep though and Dean didn't want to wake him.

Deciding that he wouldn't be doing anyone any good if he didn't eat, Dean decided to pick something up from the diner he'd visited the day before.

Writing a quick note to his brother on the motel's stationary- in case Sam woke up to find himself alone- Dean ran out the door, starting up the stolen car and heading to the restaurant.

_SPN_

Penelope Garcia stared at her computer screen through orange-framed glasses. She saw nothing that could help her team.

"I'm sorry, Reid," she apologized sadly, "I've dug as deep as I can and I have nothing. This has never happened to me before…"

"That's okay, Garcia," the young doctor assured her but the Technical Analyst didn't feel at all better.

"Ohh, what's going to happen? Is Strauss going to kick you off the case?" she asked anxiously. The team was the best in the Bureau, she didn't know what sending someone else in could do.

"Hotch is trying to stop that from happening," Reid replied, sounding exhausted.

"It just doesn't add up," he lamented, "Not even a little. It's as though the unsub is picking off random victims."

Garcia scratched her blonde, orange-streaked hair for a moment, "Could that be it? I know I'm not much of a profiler but… maybe that is what's going on?"

"No," Reid told her, "There's always some kind of connection, no matter how small."

Garcia wished she could be of more use. She wanted to give the team good news but there was none.

"I- I'll look again," she told the doctor.

"You don't have to do that," Reid protested but Garcia interrupted him.

"I want to. I will find something," she promised.

"Okay… talk to you later, Penelope," Reid bade his farewell and ended the cell phone call.

Pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, Garcia pulled up all the information she had on the victims, leaning forwards in her chair as she began to re-read everything, searching desperately for a tiny shred of Intel that would connect them.

_SPN_

Sam actually felt better. More rested than he had been in days. His sleep had been dreamless- a bonus- and upon opening his eyes he saw no sign of Lucifer.

He ate the salad Dean bought him for dinner with no complaints and took a nice hot shower afterwards, while his brother settled in to watch some TV.

Sam pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants, comfortable clothes, ready to try and research some more even though he was sure Dean would tell him to take the rest of the night off.

Opening the bathroom door, Sam's smile faltered at the sight of Lucifer sitting on his bed, an unhappy expression on the fallen angel's face.

The young man quickly pressed down on the scar on his palm; he's not real, it's okay, he's not real…

"Hey, Sammy, feeling better?" Dean called across the small room, not even looking up at him, too focused on the television.

"Y-Yeah," Sam said and left the bathroom, tearing his gaze away from the Devil and taking a seat at the table where his laptop was.

Sam felt his brother's eyes on his back as he opened the laptop's lid and typed in his password.

"Why don't you call it a day?" Dean suggested, "You've been researching for hours."

"People are dying, Dean," Sam replied as he pulled up the Web browser, "I can't let that happen."

The younger man hunched his shoulders when he heard footsteps approach but relaxed slightly when he felt his brother's warm hand on his back.

"I know Sammy," Dean told him, "I want to ice this bitch as much as you do, but you can't if you're exhausted."

Sam's shoulders slumped. Dean was right. Sighing, he turned around and followed Dean to his bed and leaned against the headboard, surprised when his sibling handed him the remote.

"Find us something," Dean said nonchalantly.

Sam pointed the remote at the television, trying hard to not let his gaze slide to the right, to where Lucifer was sitting on his bed.

He quickly found an episode of _Jeopardy! _and set the remote down, grateful that Dean only leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and said nothing.

_W_

"Sam."

The young man frowned in his sleep but didn't wake.

"Sammy."

The hunter opened his eyes to find Lucifer's face inches from his own.

With a gasp of surprise, Sam sat up, pushing himself towards the headboard until his back pressed against the smooth wood.

The Devil gave a Cheshire cat grin, "I was worried you were going to sleep for hours."

Sam leaned forward, elbows on his knees and pressed his hands against his eyes.

"What time is it?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Two a.m."

Sam groaned and lowered his hands, glancing to his side, he was Dean lying in his own bed, snoring slightly in his sleep.

"What do you want?" Sam asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake his brother.

"I know how to kill that hag," Lucifer told him matter-of-factly.

Sam didn't say anything.

"C'mon, Sammy," the Devil wheedled and the young man clenched his jaw.

"I've forgiven you for falling asleep on me earlier," Lucifer continued, smiling, "Besides, that was Dean's fault for giving you those sleeping pills."

"You are _NOT REAL!_" Sam hissed, digging his thumb against the scar on his palm.

Lucifer just shook his head and tsked, "You're confused, that's all."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the fallen angel.

"How do you know that I'm not real? How do you know this isn't just some new game, hm?"

"It- It's not!" Sam insisted, gaze traveling to Dean's sleeping form, "Dean got me out."

Lucifer smiled and moved forward before Sam could stop him.

_SPN_

Fuck.

Dean leaped into action, turned on the light between the two beds and grabbed his brother.

"Shhh," Dean murmured more forcefully than he meant to, pulling his brother against him, "It's okay, it's okay."

Sam snapped out of it quickly- thankfully- and slumped against Dean's chest, his own rising and falling rapidly.

"Take it easy," Dean soothed, "Just breathe."

"D'n," Sam whimpered and the older brother lowered his head, "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Y-You got me o-out, right?"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he answered, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. You're not there anymore, okay? You're safe."

"H-He said," Sam began, his voice watery and Dean gripped his brother tighter.

"He isn't real, Sammy," Dean muttered to his sibling, "It's all in your head."

Sam gulped and Dean felt tears splatter onto his shirt.

"If this isn't real and it's all the Cage," Dean ventured, "Would I be here, huh?"

Sam sucked in a couple of harsh breaths before shaking his head.

"Nuh-No," he answered quietly.

Dean nodded. He carefully shifted his position so that he was sitting beside Sam and brushed his sibling's bangs back.

"You okay now?"

Sam wiped at his face and nodded.

Smiling sadly, Dean stood up but paused when Sam spoke again.

"Can I…" Sam glanced down, embarrassed, "Sleep in your bed?"

Dean opened his mouth. It had been years. Years. Since Sam had asked that. Dean was certain Sam had been ten years old- and fighting off a bad ear infection- when he'd last voiced that particular request.

The eldest Winchester glanced down at his bed; it barely was big enough for him with the way he liked to sprawl out, there was no way both he and Sam could fit on it.

"I have an idea," Dean said and stepped into the space between the two beds, pulling the cords for the lamp and alarm clock out of the wall before shoving the dresser they sat on to the end of the bed. Once the obstacles were out of the way, Dean went around to the far side of his bed and, reaching down, he shoved his bed across the short distance until it touched the other one.

"There," Dean looked up, dusting his palms off dramatically.

Sam nodded and lay back down in his bed, turning so that he was facing Dean.

The older brother climbed into bed and settled down, lying on his stomach with one arm outstretched until he could feel Sam's hair beneath his fingers.

Dean closed his eyes, his fingers idly playing with the ends of Sam's long hair before he fell asleep.

_W_

Dean groaned tiredly and stretched, opening his eyes to find his brother's bed empty.

Sitting up quickly, Dean spied Sam sitting at the table, shoulders hunched and head bowed as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

Glancing at his watch, Dean saw that it was nine o'clock in the morning.

Before Dean could speak, Sam turned in his seat to face him. Dean frowned at Sam's sunken, red-rimmed eyes but waited for his brother to talk first.

"An oak stake," Sam said quietly, "That's how you kill her."

Dean frowned, confused, before realization hit.

"The hag? We have to stab her with a stake made of oak?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

Dean smiled encouragingly at his brother, "I knew you'd find it."

Sam glanced down, "Uh… Yeah… Thanks."

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked, "I wanna get something to eat before going to the station."

Sam looked up sharply, "You're going to talk to the BAU team?"

Dean nodded, "I want to let them know what's going on before anyone else gets killed."

Sam's expression turned skeptical, "How are you going to explain it to them?"

"I'll tell them the truth," Dean shrugged.

Sam nodded. Dean peered sympathetically at his brother, "You feeling okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Sam replied quietly, "Better."

"Okay," Dean said, not completely convinced by Sam's words but deciding his worries could take the backburner for now- at least until he'd spoken to the agents- and grabbed his jacket off the back of one of the chairs.

"Let's get something to eat and go," he said casually as possible, "I don't want to wait all day to do this."

Sam stared at him.

"You want me to come with you?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Would you rather stay here by yourself?"

Sam shook his head, "It's just… You're not worried I'll freak out?"

Dean shrugged, "If it happens we'll work through it."

Sam looked uncertain of his brother's confidence but he stood, not wanting to be alone with only Lucifer for company.

The brothers left the motel room and headed to the nearby diner for a quick breakfast before heading into town.

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Kansas song of the same name.**

**Thanks to psylocke23, LeeMarieJack, SPN Mum, Elishab68, emebalia, sammynanci, squidgy78, BranchSuper, FlyingLovegood123, L.A.H.H, SamDeanLover28, reannablue, Ella Ellington and Guest for reviewing.**

**Please take a moment to review. Things are gonna start heating up pretty quickly now!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Hammer To Fall**

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, nervously. He turned up the radio, Metallica blasting from the speakers doing nothing to calm him.

Sam sat beside him in the passenger's seat, ramrod straight, eyes wide but slightly glazed with exhaustion.

All Dean could do was run scenarios through his head about what could potentially happen when he told the FBI team the truth. His favourite popped into his mind again:

_The team stood in a circle around him and Sam. _

_ "Look, I know how this sounds but you have to believe us," Dean said, staring at the serious expressions of the BAU members._

_ "Monsters are real," Sam spoke up, "We fight them."_

_ Aaron Hotchner shook his head, "It's clear that your brother is a very troubled individual, Dean."_

_ "We're telling the truth!" he exclaimed as suddenly two police officers showed up, their attention on Sam._

_ Dean stumbled back when Derek Morgan punched him in the face and shouted, "Someone get me a straightjacket!"_

_ Dean fought as an officer grabbed him, cuffing his hands._

_ "Sam! No! Sammy!" Dean shouted as the other officer grabbed his brother and started to drag Sam out of the room._

_ "We're going to get you help," that hot, blonde agent- JJ- told Dean but he wasn't listening._

_ "Sammy! No! Let me go with him! Sam!"_

Dean shook his head and frowned. He was _not _going to let that happen. Even if the team didn't believe him, there was no way in hell he was going to let them take Sam away.

Glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye, Dean wondered if he should have told Sam to stay in the motel room, take some of those sleeping pills and rest.

No, Dean told himself, he's better here. Where I can keep an eye on him.

_SPN_

Lucifer followed Sam as he climbed out of the car even though the young man tried to ignore him.

He's not real, Sam told himself, he's stuck in his Cage.

Sam walked beside Dean as they approached the redbrick building. His palms were growing sweaty with nerves.

"Don't ignore me, Sam," the Devil warned him.

_SPN_

Dean walked into the police station as though he owned the place. He oozed his usual confidence and hoped that no one would give him and his brother a second glance.

Dean was glad that he didn't have to ask where the team was- the conference room had glass walls so the agents were easily visible.

Walking with purpose, Dean didn't even knock on the door before opening it.

Six pairs of eyes turned in his direction and the eldest Winchester smiled.

"Miss me?" he asked with a smirk.

"Dean?" Aaron Hotchner asked, taking a step forward.

"The one and only," he announced, stepping into the room- Sam close behind him- and closing the door.

"What are you doing here?" the Unit Chief asked, frowning.

"I'm here for the same reason you are," Dean replied, "Because some fugly is killing people."

"Sam?" the voice came from Dr. Reid who had caught sight of the younger brother apparently trying to hide behind Dean.

Dean smiled. He glanced quickly at Sam but his brother seemed alright for now and he put a comforting hand on his sibling's shoulder as Spencer Reid approached them.

"Do you… remember me?" the doctor asked, clearly thinking that Sam wouldn't since he'd been severely injured and dehydrated at the time of their 'introduction' in Cunningham's garage.

Sam gave a small smile of acknowledgement and held out his hand.

"Spencer, right?" he asked, glancing nervously at Dean from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"Yes," the agent answered, taking hold of Sam's hand, "I'm glad to see you're okay."

Sam smiled but the expression did not meet his eyes.

"What do you mean you're here for our case?" Rossi asked, breaking up the impromptu reunion of Spencer and Sam.

Dean sighed. Here came the hard part. He looked up at the pictures displayed on the whiteboard across the room.

"This is going to sound completely nuts," he began slowly, "But just hear me out, okay?"

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and Dean shifted closer to his brother.

"What is it?" Agent Hotchner asked, expression stony.

"You've been having trouble pinning this yahoo down right? Can't figure out what its motive is?" Dean asked and Aaron nodded.

"How did you know?" Emily Prentiss asked.

Dean smirked, "I'm good at what I do, Sweetheart."

The Unit Chief cleared his throat and Dean continued, "Okay, the reason you're having so much trouble with this one is… well, it's not a who, its more of a what."

The agents frowned.

"What are you talking about?" JJ asked, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Okay, so, I'm gonna tell you something and you have to promise not to freak out? Alright?" Dean asked.

When he received no answer, he continued, "The killer you're looking for is a hag."

"An old woman?" Reid asked, confused and Sam shook his head.

"Her name is Black Annis," he said quietly, "She's native to Leicestershire, England but for some reason has migrated this way. She's the one who killed those people."

"She's a monster," Dean continued, "Like Godzilla."

Dean's heart dropped at the looks of disbelief the team was giving him and Sam.

"Uh…" Dean stammered, not sure if they should try and leave or not.

"How many unsolved cases do you have locked up in Quantico?" Sam spoke up again, "Hundreds? Thousands? Have you ever come across a crime that you just couldn't explain, where nothing seemed right?"

Rossi nodded, "Of course, but…"

"Some of those were probably cases that involved monsters."

"When you say 'monsters' you mean actual monsters?" Emily asked, brushing her long black hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Dean spoke up, "There's hags, like the one here, but there are others."

"Vampires?" Reid asked and Dean nodded.

"What else?" JJ asked.

Dean wasn't sure if they were suddenly curious because they were willing to believe him and Sam or they just wanted something to write on the paper work when they were committed.

"Werewolves, demons, shapeshifters," Sam answered.

Reid frowned, "I've seen ghosts before."

The other members of his team stared at him. The doctor blushed with embarrassment.

Dean looked hopefully at Agent Hotchner.

"Tell us about this thing," the Unit Chief demanded and Dean sighed in relief.

_SPN_

Reid knew there was something wrong with Sam Winchester.

He was a profiler. He'd seen it as soon as the young man had stepped into the room.

And it wasn't just the man's eyes, sunken with dark circles around them, or how pale his face was.

It was the way he hunched his shoulders protectively, the way he stood too close to Dean, even though they were brothers.

Reid saw it in the way Sam glanced quickly away from the grisly crime-scene photos taped to the whiteboard.

He saw it in the way the young man surreptitiously pressed his thumb into the palm of his left hand.

Reid knew there was something wrong with the younger Winchester because he had seen the same expression Sam was wearing, on his own mother's face whenever her illness became bad.

The doctor said nothing though; he listened to Dean describe the way this unsub- hag- had killed an entire flock of sheep a few weeks ago and then turned to human prey.

At least they knew how to kill it; or so Dean claimed. A stake made from the wood of an oak tree should do it in.

"But we still don't know where she's hiding," Dean confessed, "That's the only thing."

The team turned eyes on Reid.

"Have you heard about this Black Annis before?" Hotchner asked and the doctor shook his head.

"Alright," the Unit Chief announced, "I'm calling Garcia to see if she can help us."

_SPN_

Garcia picked up the phone when it rang, Hotchner's name on the screen. The Technical Analyst bit her lip, knowing Aaron was calling for more information. Information that she just didn't have.

"Yes Captain?" she asked, trying to sounds as cheerful as possible.

"Garcia, I need you to look up and send me anything you find on Black Annis."

The woman blinked, confused.

"Black Annis? What's that? Some kind of spice?"

"It's a mythological hag that originates from England," Aaron answered in his usual calm tone.

"Oh…" Penelope replied, "Can I ask why I have to look this up?"

"We have reason to believe that she is our unsub."

Garcia didn't respond.

"Um…" she began but had no idea what to say.

"Are you getting enough sleep, Sir? Maybe you should lie down," she tried, wondering if the Unit Chief needed a long vacation.

"I'm fine, Garcia," Aaron assured her, "The Winchesters-"

The Technical Analyst squeaked, "The Winchesters?!"

"Yes, they are working with us again," Hotch told her.

"Sir, do you think that's such a good idea?" Penelope asked nervously, she knew the rest of the team believed them to be good men but she still wasn't so sure.

"Can you look up that information for us?" Aaron asked, his tone stern.

"Yes, of course," Garcia regained her composure and began typing, "I'll let you know as soon as I have something."

_W_

Unknown to Garcia, Agent Valente had stopped outside of her door on his way past, catching mention of the Winchester brothers as he did so.

Smiling, the Leviathan took out his phone and placed a direct call to Dick Roman.

"Hello Sir," he said quietly, already making his way down the staircase towards the bullpen, "I've found them."

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Queen song of the same name.**

**Thanks to psylocke23, Elishab68, Ella Ellington, emebalia, L.A.H.H, LeeMarieJack, FlyingLovegood123, SPN Mum, People Person I'm Not, reannablue, BranchSuper for reviewing. **

**Uh oh… Now the Leviathans know where Sam and Dean are! Please take a moment to review. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Strangeland**

"Can I ask why you all seem so calm about this?" Dean said as he took the coffee Morgan offered him, "I mean, not that I'm complaining, but… usually civilians put up more of a fight than this."

Rossi answered, smiling grimly, "We hunt monsters in men's clothing almost everyday, it doesn't take a great stretch of the imagination to accept the existence of _real _monsters."

Dean shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. Sam was sitting beside him with his own cup, staring rather intently into its dark depths.

"How do you know about monsters?" JJ asked, twisting a lock of blonde hair around her finger nervously.

Dean set his cup of coffee down and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair.

"It's kind of a long story…" he hedged.

"We've got time," Rossi said, glancing up at the clock above the whiteboard.

Dean glanced at the faces of the men and women of the BAU team and sighed.

"I guess you should know the story- the real story," he admitted.

Of course Dean wasn't going to give them _everything_, there were many things in his and Sam's life that didn't need to be shared, but he'd at least let the BAU know how and why they were hunters.

"When we were kids," Dean began softly, making eye contact with each agent, "A demon killed our mother and our Dad vowed to get revenge against it."

Agent Hotchner nodded, "That was the night of the fire, right? I read about it in your file."

"Yeah," Dean said, "That was our first encounter with the supernatural."

_W_

For the next half-hour Dean talked, giving the agents the revised version of his and Sam's lives, keeping it as vague as possible.

Afterwards the team sat silent, stunned.

Dean looked over at Sam. He hoped he had done the right thing by telling the team their history. He had made sure to leave out the most important parts- his death and resurrection, his kick-off of the Apocalypse, Sam letting Lucifer out and his subsequent trip Downstairs- and only told what the agents needed to know.

"So there are more hunters like you?" JJ asked and Dean nodded, "All over the world. Trying to keep average folks safe."

"It's hard to believe that something like this could be kept secret for so long," Rossi said in awe.

Dean smirked, "Yeah well, most hunters aren't the friendliest of people. We like to keep to ourselves."

He glanced over at Sam who had not taken one drink of his coffee, the beverage now cold.

"Sammy?"

Dean reached out and turned his brother's head so he could get a better look at his face.

Shit, Dean swore silently at Sam's red-rimmed, wet eyes.

Dean gripped Sam's head, keeping his brother's eyes focused on him.

"It's okay, Sammy," he murmured quietly.

"Dean? Is he alright?" Morgan asked but the hunter ignored him.

"What is it? C'mon," Dean continued, "Just take some deep breaths."

Sam pulled away from Dean, "I- I'm okay."

The younger brother stood shakily but Dean was not relieved. His sibling's body language told him Sam was not well.

"Sam," Dean said cautiously before his brother flinched at something unseen and his legs gave out from underneath him.

Dean and Morgan moved at the same time. Dean made it to his brother first though and pulled Sam up to lean his back against his chest.

Morgan dropped to the floor, gripping Sam's legs tightly to try and stop their thrashing.

Dean had both arms wrapped around Sam's torso, pinning his sibling's arms to his sides so he couldn't stop the cries that were coming from his brother.

"Shhh," Dean soothed, his heart beating frantically, "It's okay. I've got ya. Shhh."

The door to the conference room opened and a startled-looking officer poked his head in, "What's going on?"

Hotchner snapped into action, "epileptic fit," he said and slammed the door shut.

A horribly long two minutes passed before Sam quieted, leaning heavily against Dean's chest, confused and shaking.

Morgan backed away, keeping a wary eye on the two Winchesters.

No one moved until Dean was able to help Sam up and back into his chair, the younger man slumping over, one hand resting on his brow to keep his head up.

The eldest Winchester looked at the alarmed expressions of the agents.

"I don't suppose you'll believe Sam just had a seizure?"

No one replied, so Dean sighed.

"Can someone get him some water?"

JJ moved first, leaving the conference room and closing the door behind her.

"Sam was… hurt… by one of the fuckers we hunt," Dean explained, feeling the anger creep into his voice, "He was hurt bad and he gets… flashbacks sometimes…"

Rossi nodded, "I understand. I was in 'Nam. Saw my share of PTSD when I came back."

"Are you getting help for it?" Hotchner asked and Dean bit his lip before shaking his head.

JJ returned with a bottle of water, handing it to Dean before going to stand beside Emily.

Dean twisted the cap off the bottle and held the drink out to his brother.

"Here, Sammy."

The young man looked up and took the offered beverage, taking a couple of sips before setting it down.

"We can't," Dean continued, "Not many people know about monsters and if we went to the hospital, well…"

"You're afraid they'd take Sam to a mental health facility," Reid finished and Dean nodded.

No one said anything for a long minute.

"Why don't you go back to your motel?" Hotchner suggested, "Get some rest and we'll call when we have more information."

Dean wanted to protest but then he looked down at Sam. His brother needed to sleep.

"Okay," he stood and shook the Unit Chief's hand, "Thank you."

Silently, Dean gripped Sam's shoulder, and the younger man stood.

Without say another word, the Winchesters walked out of the police station, the eyes of the BAU team on them as they went.

_SPN_

Reid looked over at Morgan as the other agent sat down, sighing and running a hand over his shaved head.

"What the hell just happened?" the dark-skinned agent asked.

"I feel like my whole world's been turned upside down and inside out," JJ commented, wrapping her arms around her chest.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Emily asked Hotch and the senior agent looked surprised.

"You didn't even question what Dean said," JJ agreed, "Not once."

The Unit Chief ran a hand through his dark hair.

"I don't have any reason to question Dean."

Emily narrowed her eyes, "Uh huh, we'll believe that."

"Something must have happened to you," Reid guessed, "Didn't it?"

Hotch shook his head, "No, I just…"

"Aaron," Rossi spoke up, "I know that look. You've got a secret."

"Tell us," JJ suggested, "What was it?"

Hotchner's eyes darkened with sadness.

"I had a friend when I was younger, Tyler Flannigan," he began, "We played together all the time… for hours. We were neighbours."

The Unit Chief paused, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"It was December, just after Christmas, I remember because Tyler was so excited to get this new toboggan," he continued, smiling at the memory.

"He promised we could play with it the next day and I was so excited I couldn't sleep. I kept getting up to go look out my bedroom window at his- they faced each other- and I saw this… thing… I didn't know what it was. It looked like an old ratty blanket or something."

No one spoke. There was silence in the room as the agent told his story.

"It was floating in front of Tyler's window, hovering there. I… watched it open his window and slip inside."

JJ put her hand up to her mouth in shock.

"I was scared so I ran to my bed and pulled the covers over my head. I tried to tell myself that I had just imagined it. The next morning though, when I went to Tyler's, his parents said he was too sick to play."

Hotch sucked in a shaky breath, his normally calm demeanor cracking.

"I went home and played with Sean instead. The next day when I went back to Tyler's, his parents said he was in the hospital."

The man stopped for a long moment, saying nothing.

"He never did recover," he finished, "He slipped into a coma and died. None of the doctors could explain it."

"Oh Hotch," Emily said sadly.

"That's not the worst thing," the agent said, "His little sister came down with the same thing and passed as well. After that we moved away. I think my parents were afraid."

Hotchner looked up, "I don't know how I knew but I was always certain that thing I'd seen that night was responsible for Tyler's death. I never said anything though, who'd believe me?"

The rest of the team looked at their leader with sad, sympathetic expressions.

"I… think something happened to my sister," JJ spoke up, shocking everyone.

They all knew that the blonde agent's sibling had committed suicide but no one had ever asked about it out of respect for JJ's privacy.

_W_

The next few hours the team members spent telling stories of their experiences with the supernatural. It was astonishing how close each of them had come to the Winchester's hidden world without even knowing it.

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from a Green Day song of the same name. **

**Thanks to psylocke23, LeeMarieJack, emebalia, L.A.H.H, FlyingLovegood123, SamDeanLover28, and DjinnAtwood for reviewing.**

**Thanks to everyone who alerted, favourited and followed. **

**Please leave a review! I love reading them!**


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